


Kremzeek!

by ladydragon76



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 06:38:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2300048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Everyone, quick!  Blame Brainstorm!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kremzeek!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [specspectacle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/specspectacle/gifts).



> **‘Verse:** IDW  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** PG  
>  **Characters:** Crew of the _Lost Light_  
>  **Warnings:** Crack, Canon? What canon?  
>  **Notes:** My ficcy to go with [After Hours](http://specspectacle.tumblr.com/post/97405169977/the-second-reverse-bang-picture-after-hours) by Specspectacle for the tf_reversebang. Special Thanks to Masqueadrift for rambling ideas at me until we landed on this one. I might have had a little too much fun writing this. ^_^

“ _ **KREMZEEEEEEEK!!**_ ”

“There it goes!”

“Why’s it keep yelling that?”

“Who cares? Just get it!”

“It’s electricity! How the frag are we supposed to catch it?”

“It’s _sentient_ electricity!” A pulse. “I need it.”

Perceptor was not alone in blinking at Brainstorm and his tone of utter lust, but he was pretty sure he was the only one that understood the full implication of what would happen if Brainstorm did get his hands on the creature.

That could not be allowed to happen.

“Whatever,” Rodimus said, then clapped his hands together. “Ok! Rod Squad, with me!”

Rodimus tore off down the corridor, Chromedome, Rewind, Brainstorm, Skids, and of course Drift, charging after him. From somewhere up ahead a mech screamed, and the sharp cry of, “ _ **KREMZEEEEEEEEEEK!!!**_ ” echoed enthusiastically back to Perceptor. He shook his helm then turned to head back to his lab. Let them chase sentient electricity with their bare hands. He needed to find the pieces and construct a containment box.

~ | ~

“Rodimus! Damnit! What is going on out there?!” Red Alert demanded. “I’ve got systems alerts going off everywhere.”

// _Sentient electricity is what Brainstorm called it._ //

Red Alert slapped a hand over his face and rubbed. Hard. “Are you telling me that Brainstorm unleashed some monster on us? Again?”

// _What do you mean again?_ // Brainstorm asked.

// _No,_ // Rodimus replied. // _We aren’t sure where it came from or how it… manifested._ //

Primus, he was trying to use big words, Red Alert thought.

// _But I’m on it. We’re going to catch it._ //

// _Then I’m totally going to figure out how it works!_ //

Unicron was real and Brainstorm was his spawn. Red Alert shook his helm, dropping an elbow onto the console and resting his face in his hand. Think, think. He needed someone with more than two processor chips to rub together on this. Ultra Magnus was the obvious choice, and Red Alert reached out to change frequencies in order to contact him.

“Gah!”

“Kremzeek!”

Spark pounding, Red Alert leaned back from the console nice and slow. Oh no. What to do? What to do?! “Y-you are in violation of security pr-protocol… uh…” Surely there had to be one against energy based creatures gallivanting through a ship’s systems. If not, then Red Alert was absolutely going to talk to Magnus about getting one on the books.

“Kremzeek?” it asked, the vacant space where eyes or optics would be blinking up at Red Alert as the head... area tilted to the side in apparent confusion.

“Well. It’s hardly polite to tear through our systems. In fact it’s downright dangerous.” Had no one tried talking to it yet? No wait. This was Rodimus leading the charge and Brainstorm wanting to study it, and Primus only knew who else acting like idiots and chasing it hither and yon.

“I apologize if we gave you a fright, but I’m going to have to ask you to desist this errant behavior immediately. We have over two hundred sparks on this ship, and- What are you doing? I’m trying to speak to you here.”

“Kremzeek,” it said as it walked across the console. “Kremzeeek.”

Red Alert sighed. “Is that all you can say?”

“Kremzeek.”

Optic ridge arching, head shaking just a little, Red Alert muttered, “Primus help me. Hey! No! Don’t touch that!”

Alarms blared, and Red Alert bit out a curse as he reached out, daring proximity to the creature to stop them.

“ _Kremzeeeeeeeeeek!!_ ” The creature dove _into_ the console, and a charge danced over the keys.

All the screens flickered, and Red Alert’s spark bottomed out. “No. No!” But he could do nothing as they glitched to static, then the whole thing when black.

Red Alert pulled out his personal commlink and called Ultra Magnus. “I can’t track it at all now. The security hub is completely fried.” As if to punctuate his statement a spark snapped on the console. He heaved a put-upon sigh, then shoved back to get a start on the repair work.

~ | ~

“Kremzeeek!”

“Whoa!” Blaster flinched back as a little lightning critter popped out of the control panel for the communications array. “Slag me.” Hurrying to switch on his personal comm, he said to whoever was listening, “Communications Room. It’s here.”

“Kremzeek?”

“Yeah, little dude, talkin’ about you.”

// _Grab it!_ // Rodimus shouted back.

“Looks like electricity, Rodi. Not real keen to touch it without insulator gloves at the very least.”

// _Pff!_ //

And their fearless leader had just pff’d him. Blaster rolled his optics, then watched the creature stroll across the controls. “Do me an epic favor, little dude.”

“Kremzeek?”

“Yeah. Please don’t fry my stuff.”

A sparking yellow arm pointed at the console. “Kremzeek?”

“Yup. Mine. Been working hard ta fix it since we had a bit of an exciting start to our trip, and I’d really appreciate it if ya didn’t slag it.”

Who knew that electricity could smile wickedly?

“Aw slag.”

“ _Kremzeeeeeeeeek!_ ”

Blaster made a grab for it despite his bare hands, but the thing had already dove back into the panel and popped up again just out of reach. That didn’t stop Blaster from lunging anyway, but he missed and his control board began to spark and hiss and smoke.

“Where is it?!” Rodimus yelled as he burst through the door, gun in hand.

“ _ **KREMZEEEEEEEEK!**_ ”

“No!” Blaster shouted, hands reaching, but Rodimus fired.

Multiple times.

The control panel gave a sharp _fzzt_ , then exploded. Blaster wasn’t even sure what the frag Rodimus had hit in there to make that happen, but the room quickly filled with acrid smoke.

“Anyone see it?” Rodimus called.

“No.”

“Nope.”

“Me either.”

“Damn. Why didn’t you stop it, Blaster?”

Blaster stared, dumbfounded, at Rodimus, then his fingers curled into claws and slowly reached as his optics narrowed to maliciously glowing slits. “Get out.”

Rodimus’ helm tipped to the side. “You know, you look a bit demonic and cool with those flames backlighting you.”

Drift was suddenly between them, fire extinguisher in hand. He shoved it into Blaster’s arms, then turned to push Rodimus out the door. “Hurry, it’s getting away. We need to track it.”

“Yeah, and good luck,” Blaster snapped. “No video, no comms. Little glitch knows what’s he’s doing.” He spun around and began to douse the flames, muttering to himself about trigger happy morons.

~ | ~

“Ah. I thought we might meet,” Ultra Magnus said, staring hard at the little creature that had suddenly popped out of his office door’s keypad.

“Kremzeek.”

“Ultra Magnus, but let us skip the pleasantries. You’ve engaged in an open attack on our vessel.”

“Kremzeeeeeek?”

Ultra Magnus’ optics narrowed. “Yes, you. I require your immediate surrender.”

Static crackled and snapped from Kremzeek, and with what Magnus suspected was a rude gesture, it slipped back inside his keypad. He rose to follow, but the keypad crackled and snapped itself, a thin wisp of white smoke curling out of the now dark and warped cover. Rather sure of what that meant, Magnus still tried to open his door, but to no avail.

“Clever thing,” he murmured, and returned to his desk for a few tools. This wasn’t the first time some delinquent had locked him in his office. 

~ | ~

“Fraggit! Bob!” Sunstreaker pelted through the halls, tearing after a very determined, _very_ happy insecticon.

The best toy _ever_ had just popped right out of the wall, and Bob was having a blast with it!

“ _Kremzeeeeek!_ ” it cried.

Bob plowed into the wall, unable to stop in time with the momentum he’d built up, but stepped back, shook it off, and looked all around. Antennae twitched, and his aft waggled violently in sheer, unadulterated glee. He was going to find it. He was going to catch it. This was better than the time that one mech that smelled like his master’s gun oil made the dot of light on the floors and walls for Bob to chase.

“Bob,” Sunstreaker said, his tone stern and irritated.

Bob almost responded, but then the toy reappeared, sparks showering down from the panel on the wall.

“ _ **KREMZEEEEEK!**_ ”

“ _Bob!_ ”

Thundering down the corridor, Bob chased the toy as it zipped and zapped from spot to spot, always staying just out of reach.

“Bob! No! Bob, don’t touch it!” Sunstreaker made a grab for the tow cable, but missed as Bob lunged.

No one was more surprised than Bob that he’d succeeded in catching the toy in his mouth. And no one was more angry about that than the toy.

A muffled, “ **KREMZEEEEEK!!** ” sounded from within Bob’s mouth, then electricity crackled and burned all around his head.

Bob shrieked, the toy shooting from his mouth to stand firmly on the floor in front of him. Little sparks danced all around it, and despite the pain in his mouth and fuzz clouding his vision, Bob _really_ wanted to grab it again.

“Kremzeek! Kremzeeeeeek! Kremzeek _Kremzeek_!” it berated him. “Kremzeeeeek!”

Bob whined and wriggled, felt as Sunstreaker caught up his end of the tow cable, but it was so _shiny_.

“Stay, Bob,” Sunstreaker ordered.

Bob went completely still. He knew that tone. They weren’t playing, they were _hunting_. The toy was still looking at Bob, and Sunstreaker had edged to the side a little. The tension built as the bright little toy continued to berate Bob for catching it in his mouth, but Bob let it, even letting his antennae droop a bit like he was sorry. He wasn’t, but he knew when his master was using him as a distraction on a hunt.

With a _whoomp_ , Sunstreaker threw himself to the floor, a glass food container ringing a little as it hit the floor and trapped the toy. “Hah! Gotcha, ya slagger.”

“ _Kremzeeeeeeeeek!_ ” the toy wailed.

“Bob. Go get Magnus.”

Bob stood, helm tipping. Magnus… Magnus… He knew that name, which one of the swarm- Wait Magnus? Antennae whipped back.

“Yes. Magnus. Go. Quick. Bring him here. Good boy, get Magnus.”

Good boy? Well, this was confusing, but alright. Bob gave the toy- _prey_ one last look and froze. Where had it gone?

Sunstreaker frowned when Bob didn’t move, but then looked too, and cursed. “The frag?”

“Kremzeek,” their prey hissed.

Bob threw himself between his master and the attacking creature. It hurt, and he was left with a numb mouth and his vision skewed, but Sunstreaker was safe. Their prey had escaped though.

“Damnit. Poor bug.” Sunstreaker’s hand was gentle on Bob’s helm. “Come on. Let’s get you to Ratchet.”

Bob chuffed his agreement, then watched the smoke from his mouth float toward the ceiling.

~ | ~

“Holy slag,” Sunstreaker said as he entered the medbay.

“Ya think?!” Ratchet snapped, whipping around. He eyed Sunstreaker, looking for damage, then spotted the insecticon smoking at his feet. “The frag happened to Bob?”

“The frag happened here? That freaking Kremzeek thing bounce through?”

Ratchet felt his expression go flat. “Nah. I woke up this morning and just hated everything.”

Sunstreaker snickered a little, then led Bob toward a med berth. “Well, if you help this daffy thing, I’ll help you clean up in here.” His optics swept around the medbay again. There were berths upended, tools spilled across the floor, and Sunstreaker was pretty sure that wasn’t simple energon forming a growing puddle over in the far corner. “Frag me, Ratch.”

“Don’t you start with me,” Ratchet huffed as he gathered up a scanner and some of the tools so he could look Bob over. “I managed to chase it off, almost caught it twice, and all my critical care equipment survived the damn thing trying to play with them. Get him up here. What happened?”

“He caught it in his mouth at first, then I caught it under a glass, but it escaped. Slippery slagger.” Sunstreaker lifted Bob onto the med berth, the insecticon’s antennae slicking back. “The real damage came from him diving between me and it. Guess it was pissed that I tried to trap it.”

“Must’ve packed a punch to blow out two of his optics.” Ratchet used both hands to rub and pet Bob’s helm, thumbs working around the bases of his antennae the way he knew the insecticon liked. Despite the fury at whoever -likely Brainstorm- had released that little electrical monster on them, Ratchet smiled as Bob melted under his touch and began to purr.

“Good boy, Bob,” Sunstreaker said. “Gonna have to knock him out for this?”

“Yeah, probably,” Ratchet replied. “Mechs can’t sit still through lens replacements, and I’d rather him not fear me or associate being here with pain. I just want to really get a look at him first.”

“That drawer, right?” Sunstreaker pointed. “He looks pretty happy with you at the moment.”

“Yeah.”

Bob barely twitched an antenna as Sunstreaker left and returned with the sedative.

“He’s gonna be ok?”

“Yeah, Sunny,” Ratchet said, watching closely as Sunstreaker expertly administered the drug. “We’ll get him back to chasing laser sights and pipes in no time.”

“Ok.”

“Now clean up my medbay.”

Sunstreaker chuckled, giving Bob a last pet. “Yes, master.”

~ | ~

Swerve screamed as another explosion blew another batch of energon into a flaming mist. It would have been really pretty, like fireworks, if it wasn’t his entire business burning down around his audials.

“ _ **KREMZEEEEEEEK!!**_ ”

“My bar. My beautiful bar,” Swerve lamented, huddling low to the floor behind a table that had been knocked over on its side.

“ _ **KREMZEEEEEEEEEEK!!**_ ”

“If we can grab a couple glasses, maybe we can catch it?” Pipes suggested. “I mean, glass doesn’t conduct, right? That’s why we use it for the energon?”

Yet another explosion rocked the bar, the sound of shattering glass accompanying it. The tinkling as it hit the floor in a rain of shards was almost musical.

“Huh. I think it’s a smart little glitch,” Pipes added.

Swerve covered his face, and bowed down to the floor. “My bar. Oh Primus, why? Why _my_ bar?”

Pipes patted Swerve’s helm. “It’ll be ok.

“Ok?!” Swerve jerked upright. “How will this ever be ok again?”

Pipes’ optics followed the sweep of Swerve’s arm, and he nodded. “Well, yeah, it looks bad now, but the Kremzeek is still tearing it up. You just have to imagine it all clean and neat again.” He smiled, patting Swerve’s shoulder. “Full with customers just how you like it.”

“ _KREMZEEEEEEEK!_ ”

**_BOOM_ **

Pipes smile faltered just a little before turning a bit wry. “And no Kremzeek.”

“No Kremzeek would be a start.”

“ _ **KREMZEEEEEEEEEK!!**_ ”

~ | ~

Tailgate huddled back a little, the tips of two fingers tapping together as Cyclonus shook his helm. “Still off, huh?”

“You are improving.” Cyclonus straightened his back even more where he sat on his berth across from Tailgate. “Listen.”

The old language belted out in a smooth, rich baritone, filling their quarters and almost knocking Tailgate backwards. He rocked a bit before finding his balance, but was already nodding.

“Project,” Cyclonus said. “You’re still just shouting. It’s not about volume but power.”

“I just don’t think I can hit those notes.”

Cyclonus frowned. “Of course not. You’re a tenor. Just sing, don’t try to imitate my voice.”

“Ooh~ Ok!” Tailgate cycled his vents then began again, the music flowing much easier. Cyclonus was almost even smiling, but then something leapt out of their keypad and landed right in the middle of the floor.

“Kremzeek,” it said as Tailgate’s singing faded off.

“Oh wow, it’s so cute.”

Cyclonus shook his helm. “Brainstorm should not allow his experiments to run free.”

“How do you know it’s Brainstorm’s?” Tailgate asked as the creature turned back and forth between them.

“Hm. Valid point, I was assuming.”

“Kremzeek.”

“You should go back,” Tailgate said. “I don’t know where you belong, but this is our private room and we’re in the middle of a singing lesson.”

“Kremzeek?”

“Yeah. But nice to meet you.”

“Kremzeek.” Tailgate was given a wave, then the creature jumped back up the wall and disappeared into the keypad.

“Again?”

“Yes,” Cyclonus said. “Try again as you did before, we’ll work on projection when you find your own voice.”

“Ok.”

~ | ~

It was late, well after hours when Rewind finally sat at a table in the bar. He passed Tailgate a glass of energon, and sipped his own.

“So it was Perceptor that finally caught it?” Tailgate asked. He pulled his favorite curly straw from his subspace, the one Swerve had made special for him, and plopped it into his energon.

“Yeah. I was there, recorded the whole thing,” Rewind replied.

“I can hardly believe one little critter caused so much damage. It seemed so nice,” said Tailgate, hand lifting. “It just popped into Cyclonus’ and my quarters, then left when asked. Was really polite other than entering uninvited, but maybe it doesn’t know better?”

From across the table Swerve snorted in his recharge, hand twitching where it stretched out toward Rewind. They’d worked for hours trying to help the distraught and exhausted mech set his bar to rights. There was still damage, but it only looked like there’d been a bad fight instead of an attack.

Helm shaking, Rewind couldn’t help but chuckle. “Lacking manners is the least of it.”

“So what’s going to happen to it now?”

“I’m not sure.” Rewind sipped at his energon a moment, replaying the video internally. “I know Rodimus was fascinated with it, and only Ultra Magnus and Drift stepping in kept him from opening the containment and setting it free again. He wanted to have a look at it, he said. Kremzeek was fragged, so we’d have all been in trouble if it’d have gotten loose.

“Brainstorm wanted it to experiment on, and no, he didn’t create it, but said he wishes he had. He tried to take it from Perceptor but Ultra Magnus backed up Perce and told Brainstorm he was not allowed to touch, look, or even think about experimenting on it, and he isn’t allowed to ask or compel anyone else, in any way, to do it for him.” Rewind snickered with Tailgate.

“I love how specific Magnus can be.”

“Well, he’s familiar with the way the troublemakers around here think. Anyway,” Rewind said with a wave of a hand, “it’s in Perceptor’s care now, and the last thing I heard him say to Magnus was that he would try to come up with a solution to set it free somewhere it’d be safe. For it and everyone else in the galaxy.”

“Oh good.” Tailgate finished his energon. “It’d be a shame for Kremzeek-”

Swerve jerked awake, flailing back, his chair clanging as it hit the floor. “No! Not my bar!”

“Oops.”

“Easy, Swerve,” Rewind said, and finished his own energon. “We were just saying that Kremzeek’s all locked up. Your bar is safe.”

“Well, I was saying it’d be a shame if it had to live forever in a little box, but yeah, the bar’s safe.” Tailgate’s visor brightened in his version of a smile, and Swerve nodded.

The chair was righted, and Tailgate helped Swerve back to it while Rewind got the mech one of the surviving glasses filled with energon.

“Yeah. Ok. I’m ok. Bar’s ok.” Swerve’s hand was shaking as he took the glass and drank.

“Yep!” Tailgate agreed with a chipper note. “Everyone’s ok.” He paused. “I wonder if anyone will get a Rodimus star for this?”

**Author's Note:**

> [After Hours by Specspectacle](http://specspectacle.tumblr.com/post/97405169977/the-second-reverse-bang-picture-after-hours)


End file.
